


Warmth

by OropherionFANatic



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Shameless Smut, no discernable plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OropherionFANatic/pseuds/OropherionFANatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a cold winter night, how is an Elven King to keep warm? Well, his butler may be of service...</p>
<p>Yeah, in case you haven't figured it out, I ship Thranduil/Galion. I mean, how does that not work? Ha. Anyway, it snowed today and I was inspired to write this fic, thinking of how Thranduil and Galion would stay warm on a cold winter night. But we all kind of know the answer to that already, don't we?</p>
<p>There's not really any sort of plot, just shameless and fluffy smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters and landscape belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, I'm just shamelessly playing with them!

The night was cold and quiet with winter having set in prematurely that year. Moonlight bathed the snow-covered landscape in a blanket of luminescent light, delicate flakes of ice frolicking playfully through chilling air. The trees were silent in wintry slumber, their boughs weighted by the season’s snowfall that was slow to melt and ever building. The wind was the only soul that whispered through the forest, for even the nightingales and great owls burrowed deep in their dwellings, not wishing to dare the bite of the frosty air. 

All was peaceful, as it was meant to be. 

In was in the halls of Eryn Lasgalen that Galion observed this winter peace, having just finished stoking the fire of his beloved Lord and King Thranduil Oropherion. Even the strong stone walls hung with their intricate tapestries could not protect the halls from the bite of the winter cold, thus it was Galion’s and his staff’s duty to keep their lords warm and comfortable. And indeed Thranduil looked comfortable, for his face was slack and relaxed in reverie, his eyes open and blank as dreams danced beyond their depths. The silver comforter, stuffed with down and feathers, was pulled tight about his chest, hiding those battle-forged muscles that always drew the eyes from those who observed. Of course none had seen more than Galion himself, for Thranduil held him in the highest regards of his heart and had given him what love he could in the days of peace. Galion thought of that love in the quiet night, reflecting on the long ages of conflict and tumult that had passed between him and the king before they let their hearts guide them. Long had it taken to realize the truth, but the reward had been all the sweeter. 

Wiping his hands upon his breeches, Galion could not resist taking an extra moment to observe his beautiful lord. There were other fires waiting to be fed in the halls, but the flames could hold for a minute or two; what mattered most now was the peaceful form of Thranduil upon his bed, his skin white and flawless in the firelight, eyes still bright and clear despite the mask of sleep. Galion let his feet lead him forward until he stood at the edge of the bed looking down at the regal face haloed by wheat-gold hair, the soft curve of a noble neck disappearing beneath the covers. A great love surged forth from his heart as he gazed upon the one he cared most for, and he bent down to place a feather light kiss upon the kingly brow, resting there for mere seconds before regretfully pulling away. A soft smile graced his lips as he thought of passion past spent, but he knew that duty awaited him beyond Thranduil’s rooms. Thus he turned before he could be enmeshed in the Elven King’s deadly beauty, but was halted by a hand on his wrist.

“Stop.”

He bit back a surprised gasp, instead swallowing and turning to face his king. “My lord,” he murmured, ever so formal as was his custom. 

Thranduil’s sleep-softened face stared up at him, eyes clear and discerning, covers slipped back to reveal the shapely pectoral muscles as his arm reached forth to grasp Galion’s wrist. “Where must you go?” the king asked softly, his voice both curious and impatient. 

“My duties call me on this cold night.” Galion smiled slightly, placing his other hand on top of the king’s, which had not moved from its manacle-like grip. He gave a tiny squeeze and a corner of Thranduil’s mouth twisted upwards. 

“So too do I call you,” Thranduil whispered, bringing Galion’s hand to his lips and brushing the soft skin with a feather kiss. 

Galion shivered and tugged at his trapped limb half-heartedly, though his heart urged him to move forward and replace his hand with his own lips. “My lord, I must—“

“Stay. Stay with me.” Thranduil massaged the slighter elf’s hand until his palm was exposed, then placed another kiss upon the soft expanse, his tongue flicking briefly against pale flesh. Galion’s knees went weak and a heat stirred in his belly, his mind losing track of what work he had left to fulfill in the sleeping halls. 

“My king, please…”

Thranduil looked up at him then, his face thrown into exaggerated relief from the firelight, his eyes lit like the stars and burning with sudden passion. Galion felt his resolve weaken even further, and thoughts of ’My staff can take my duties,’ and ‘the fires will last another hour,’ danced through his mind. Thranduil stroked his palm with his large thumb, the slight friction setting Galion’s skin on fire even in the chilling air, and the butler’s legs almost buckled beneath him. Even if he had the power to draw himself away from his lover he would be in no shape to continue his rounds through the halls. 

Thranduil saw the weakening resolve and grinned, white teeth flashing. “Your king commands you to join him.”

And so Galion obeyed. 

He came around to the opposite side of the bed, Thranduil’s eyes watching him with every step, a hawk surveying his prey. The look of those wise and commanding orbs sent a shiver up Galion’s spine, his scalp prickling with anticipation. Thranduil pulled back the sheets for him and he slipped quickly under them, suddenly wanting to be rid of the frosty air in the room. He positioned himself on his side and faced his king, his hazel eyes wide and questioning. Thranduil pulled the covers up around their shoulders and then wrapped his arm about Galion’s waist, pulling his lover’s body flush against his. Galion let loose a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. 

“Are you cold?” Thranduil asked, one hand running smoothly up Galion’s back. 

“A bit.” Galion’s spine flexed at the contact and his abdomen pushed up against Thranduil’s sculpted muscles. Something hard and hot pressed into his thigh and he gasped wantonly. 

Thranduil smiled and flexed his own hips forward, relishing the feel of his lover’s softer body. “Then let me warm you,” he purred, and brought his lips to Galion’s.

The kiss was slow and soft, starting as the light touch of shy lovers. But Thranduil was not one to tarry, and soon he deepened the kiss, pushing Galion’s head back into the pillows. Warm hands, rough from years of battle, delved under Galion’s tunic and brushed over his sides, causing his abdominal muscles to spasm uncontrollably. He gasped for air and Thranduil took the opportunity to invade his mouth with his tongue. The hot and wet muscle delved deep, stroking against the roof of Galion’s mouth and battling his own tongue, pressing it down just as he did Galion’s willing body. The butler moaned and grasped the back of Thranduil’s bare back with trembling hands, searching desperately for a hold that he could not find. Finally they both pulled back for want of air, and each stared into the other’s eyes, depths lit with love and passion brighter than the light of the sun. 

“Thranduil…” Galion breathed, titles lost as desire set in. The king grinned.

Galion was moved by strong arms until he lay under his lover’s heated body, his heaving chest brushing against Thranduil’s bare one with every quickened breath. He closed his eyes and tried to steady himself as skilled fingers played with the hem of his tunic, but it was no use to guard himself against his passions. Thranduil was a firestorm, strong and fell and bright, and he was caught up in the inescapable heat.

Velvet lips traced lines along his jaw as his tunic was lifted up, then one last soft kiss was placed at the hollow of his neck before the simple garment was pulled off and cast away. He shivered, both from the expert caresses of lips on his skin and from the loss of a warm garment. But his king was not oblivious to his distress and covered his body once more in strong, chiseled planes and ridges, soft and hard all the same. He could not help the gasps and moans that fled his throat as tactful fingers played over his slightly-darker skin, tracing secret paths on trembling flesh that only the king knew. Thranduil traced his collarbone with the miniscule touches as if painting a delicate portrait, up and down and up and down, until he drew his hand away and replaced it with his eager mouth. Galion threw his head back as the expert tongue flicked out and licked a wet trail downwards, ever so slowly and carefully, until warm breath ghosted over his breast. He could feel the smile against his skin as he let out a small whimper, then he hissed as the wet mouth enveloped the soft pink flesh of his nipple. Wicked that mouth was as it suckled and licked, causing the heat in Galion’s middle to spark and expand, until other parts of him burned with the fire of passion. He twisted his fingers in the golden hair, soft sounds flowing from his mouth now like water from a fall, and his back arched until his hips and stomach were pressed tight against his lord’s, rubbing and grinding with abandon. 

He heard Thranduil chuckle and the vibration of it sent shivers through his body. The elven king gave his now hardened nub one last kitten-light lick, then closed his perfect white teeth on the flesh and pulled lightly, causing Galion to groan without shame. Sheets were cast aside as they generated heat in other ways, and Galion felt the body shift above him and an arm snake between them and under his breeches, until suddenly slender fingers closed around his stiffened manhood. He nearly cried out with the pleasure, instead opting to bite his lip lest he embarrass himself even more, and this only caused Thranduil even more amusement. The Elven King began to work his member in long, hard strokes, delicious friction sending shudders up Galion’s spine. He moaned and arched his hips upwards, gasping, “My k-king!”

And Thranduil only grinned, leaning down until his lips were a hair’s breadth from his lover’s. “My love,” he whispered, then gave Galion another mind-blowing kiss. 

Finally the king pulled back, his arm still working in rhythmical strokes between their bodies. Galion whimpered at the loss, but was not disappointed for long, for Thranduil moved downward and placed fleeting kisses upon his heaving abdomen. He watched with half-lidded eyes as Thranduil travelled lower and lower, a flick of the tongue here, a light nip of teeth there, a brief excavation of the navel with hot, wet muscle that caused Galion to hiss and arch. Thranduil paused at the ridge of his pelvis, glancing up with a predatory smile that caused Galion’s stomach to drop, then curled his fingers under the fabric of his leggings and pulled them down swiftly. He sat up briefly, loath to leave the warmth of the body beneath him, but made quick work of Galion’s leggings and boots and threw them on the stone floor. Then he bent back down and stroked the tops of Galion’s thighs, smirking as one who had captured a long-sought prize. It was when Galion felt the kiss at the juncture of hip and thigh that he closed his eyes again, anxiousness flooding his mind and body, hands gripping the sheets with death-like strength. 

And then the kingly tongue ran a hot trail up the side of his waiting erection, causing him to shout and buck, nearly throwing Thranduil from atop him. But the king would have none of that, and pinned Galion’s hips down with his warrior’s hands that quickly overcame the slighter strength of the butler. He continued his wicked ministrations, licking burning paths along Galion’s aching manhood and teasing the weeping crown until the slighter elf was writhing and whimpering on the bed, trying in vain to thrust forward but unable to overcome the strength of his king. Then his entire length was engulfed in the wet mouth and Thranduil took him completely, working his head up and down in a steady rhythm that threatened to drive Galion insane. He could feel the pressure building inside him as the king worked his body, and try as he might he could not hold his burgeoning release. Finally, just as the pace quickened, he let himself go and spent with a drawn-out moan, pleasure wracking his body and clouding his sight. 

“My, you are eager tonight!” Thranduil teased, stretching himself back out over his lover’s body and placing a lazy kiss on Galion’s lips. Galion only mumbled in response, his senses still fuzzy from aftershocks. He was only dimly aware as Thranduil moved to retrieve a small vial from the bedside table, but the realization wouldn’t have caused him concern anyway. Indeed, the times that he and his king could lay together completely were rare because of the heavy responsibilities placed on both of their shoulders. But Galion did not fear any pain or discomfort; he trusted Thranduil completely in all things, material and immaterial. It had not always been that way, but he and the woodland lord had grown close over the ages, their souls twining together in a web that was undeniable and unbreakable. As stubborn as Thranduil was and as hesitant as Galion was, their love had breached the limits of their positions and bound them together, body and soul, for the rest of their days. 

Thranduil had removed his own leggings and cast them into the pile on the floor before Galion gained his senses back. But as soon as his vision had cleared he gazed forward to see the Elven King’s eager length jutting proudly from beneath the shapely thighs, as large and intimidating as always. Galion’s breath caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat just like a virgin’s, but he worked quickly to compose himself. He smiled at his lord and leaned forward, fingers reaching to offer pleasure, but a finger placed itself against his sternum and pushed, pressing him back into the pillows. He gazed questioningly up at the beauty above him, who only smiled softly.

“You give me enough through your days’ work, Galion. Let me give to you, this night.” And Thranduil leaned down, placing yet another kiss upon his lover’s lips. Galion invited the lordly tongue into his mouth this time and gave up the lead as it plundered his depths, leaning back into the sheets and giving himself up to oblivion. 

When he was drunk on Thranduil’s passion, the king sat up and moved lower, gently spreading Galion’s legs so that he could kneel in between. Galion moved his limbs compliantly, opening his most vulnerable areas to the one he trusted most without a thought. Thranduil glanced up at him, his eyes filled with adoration and protectiveness. Then he set about his current task, coating his fingers with oil from the vial he had earlier retrieved. 

Galion swallowed as the large, warm palms caressed his buttocks, kneading and pulling with gentle strength. Then he felt an oil-slicked finger slip into the shallow crevice, seeking out the secret opening until it rested above the ring of muscle, softly massaging. Then it pressed inside, and Galion gasped, but held himself still on the covers. 

Thranduil worked him slowly and thoroughly, eager to finish his task but unwilling to risk hurting his beloved butler. He leaned down and placed butterfly kisses on the soft plane of Galion’s stomach as he added more fingers; first one, then another, until he was sure that his ministrations had stretched Galion to the point where he could take something much larger. At this point he removed his hand and prepared his erection with yet more oil, holding Galion’s gaze as he did so. Both elves stared at each other with love wrought from ages of patience and perseverance, suffering and comfort, death and life. Long had been their toils and tasks, but sweet had been the reward at the end. 

When he was sure that he had prepared adequately, Thranduil placed his hands on either side of Galion’s hips and moved into position. Galion smiled softly up at him, offering him his trust and love, and his lord smiled back with glowing confidence. Then he pushed forward, slow and steady.

Galion grimaced as the head of Thranduil’s erection passed through his guarded ring, his muscles bunching as he grasped the covers. He closed his eyes and willed the pain away, instead focusing on the pleasure that was to come. Thranduil sensed his discomfort and leaned down, placing apologetic kisses on his collarbone as he steadily pushed further. When he was fully embedded in Galion’s tight heat he paused, letting the slighter elf adjust as he lay unmoving beneath him. Galion took a deep breath, angling his hips upwards to ease the angle of penetration and drawing a groan from Thranduil’s lips at the same moment. He could not help but smirk when he realized how torturous it was for his lord to have to hold still when he was so ridden with desire; in fact, he desired to test his own power and shifted yet again, wriggling his hips slightly and wrapping his legs around Thranduil’s lower back. The Elven King hissed, his chest heaving as he sought to control his own building desire, until he saw the mischievous look on Galion’s face. 

“Do you seek to undo me?” Thranduil growled playfully, taking Galion’s wrists in his hands and pressing them to the sheets above his head. 

Galion tested his strength against his lover’s, pushing back against the iron grip but achieving nothing. He groaned at his own helplessness, a new wave of pleasure washing over his skin and causing his manhood to harden yet again. “Seek it or not, I always undo you,” he bit back, forcing down a gasp as Thranduil jerked his hips forward. His eyes squeezed shut and he threw his head back, exposing the expanse of unblemished throat to the lion above him. 

“And so you do,” Thranduil murmured, taking the invitation. He licked a hot trail up Galion’s throat, feeling the pulse as it beat frantically beneath. He started a rhythm with his hips, moving forward slowly until his sac pressed hotly against Galion’s buttocks, then pulling out until only the head of his length remained embedded in the tight passage. This he repeated at a maddeningly slow pace, angling his hips until he found the hidden pleasure spot within. 

Galion cried out as the bundle of nerves was nudged again and again, the muscles of his arms straining as he sought to grasp at something, anything to keep him steady in the suddenly teetering world of passion. But Thranduil kept him pressed to the mattress, his sword-skilled fingers massaging the smaller wrists of his butler. His mouth sought out his lover’s, and their tongues danced once again to a tune of fire and sunlight until both could hardly breathe. 

Thranduil’s pace quickened as his pleasure built into a raging storm within him. He moved with abandon now, thrusting and withdrawing with quick, skillful strokes. Galion moaned and writhed beneath him, his skin shining with a faint sheen of sweat despite the chilling winter air. Indeed, both elves had all but forgotten the snow beyond the shutters, for each provided all the warmth that his partner needed.   
It was not long before the pleasure became too great for Galion, and he felt his abdominal muscles clench as his orgasm approached. He clenched his teeth together to hold back the scream as he spent himself onto his belly, his body convulsing with intense sensation. The squeeze of his muscles made his passage impossibly tight for Thranduil, and it was soon after that the Elven King also spent, pearly fluid practically milked from his manhood by the aggressively clenching passage. He momentarily lost his control and cried out with Galion’s name upon his shapely lips, at which Galion felt the love practically burst forth from his pounding heart. Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes in the aftershocks of his second orgasm that night, but Thranduil was there to kiss them away, his lips soft and soothing on Galion’s feverish skin. 

“Hush, my love. Hush,” Thranduil whispered, still embedded in Galion’s heat. Galion willed his breathing to slow, nodding to his king’s command and reaching up to place a hand on the side of Thranduil’s face. 

“Why you chose me, I will never know,” Galion murmured, his eyes shining with the brightest love and loyalty. It was that light which drew Thranduil in, the light that engulfed him in its warmth and gave him hope in times of darkness, ensuring that he could survive amidst any evil. It was that light that he had held on to, even in the years when he hadn’t realized that his love could be acted upon. Many times had he basked in that light when he needed warmth, and Galion had given it freely even when Thranduil did not deserve it. That had been Galion’s greatest gift of all, even though he might not know it. 

“You need not know why, only that I did choose you,” Thranduil answered, placing a tender kiss on Galion’s forehead. He finally withdrew and used a stray pillow to clean the seed off of Galion’s belly, throwing it to the side when he was finished. Then he gathered the slighter elf into his arms, pulling the covers tightly around them. Galion smiled and rested his head in the crook of his lord’s neck, closing his eyes and sighing peacefully. 

“I really should return to my work, my lord…”

Thranduil grinned, closing his eyes as well. “I’m sure you must. But for now, your work is here, with me. So stay.”

And so he stayed, as he always would.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is one of my first attempts at smut, which I do not write often, so thanks for suffering through it!   
> (And if this inspires anyone to draw a cute picture of Galion/Thranduil, then PLEASE be my guest! Haha.)


End file.
